


after the disaster (comes dark and indigo echoes)

by TheStoryDemon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe Past Fourth Year, Body Possession, Cedric Diggory Lives, Codependency, Dreamscapes, Ft. BAMF Harry, Harry Isn't the Only Horcrux in Town, Horcrux Hunting, Horcruxes, Manipulation, Possessive Tom Riddle, Strong Cedric Diggory, The Tom Riddle and Cedric Diggory Adventure no one asked for, Tom is like a bad dog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStoryDemon/pseuds/TheStoryDemon
Summary: In a slight alteration of events, Voldemort is the one to try and kill Cedric Diggory in the graveyard and that marks the beginning of the end.Or, in which Cedric Diggory finds himself harboring an illegal horcrux in his head, and Tom Riddle's ego cannot handle more than one Dark Lord terrorizing the world at a time, even if it's himself.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory & Harry Potter, Cedric Diggory & Tom Riddle & Harry Potter, Cedric Diggory & Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a soft spot for Cedric Diggory and thus this fic was born. Enjoy.

Cedric realized he wasn’t alone in his body two weeks after the memorably traumatic end of the Triwizard tournament.

He had been feeling strange for some time but had dismissed it as trauma from the attack during the third task. Harry and he had barely made it out of the graveyard alive, and Cedric owed the younger boy his life. He was impressed at Harry’s resilience; the younger boy had almost become a blood sacrifice in a deranged effort to revive You-Know-Who, had stood his ground against multiple Death Eaters, and had also managed to drag Cedric with him to the portkey and escape. Yet Harry brushed off the horrific experience and continued with his life just as he had in his previous years. 

Let the students say what they would about Harry Potter. Cedric thought that he would make a fine hero. He was the reason Cedric was alive and on his road to recovery rather than a fresh corpse buried in a grave.

And so, Cedric had similarly put the entire incident behind him. At least, until a smooth male voice scoffed in his head one morning during Care for Magical Creatures. _This buffoon is teaching here? And Albus had the nerve to deny **me** a teaching position?_ Cedric startled violently at the unfamiliar voice, turning his head to see who had been speaking so rudely and in such proximity to his ear. But the only boy near him was lightly nodding off, slumped against one of the trees. Cedric frowned, bringing a hand up to rub his ear. 

_Bowtruckles? How dull._

  
Cedric flinched again, whipping his head around. He felt Cho brush her hand down his sleeve in concern. He turned to look at her, taking in her small frown. He gave her a small smile of reassurance and straightened himself. His girlfriend was worried enough, and he didn’t want to add to it just because he thought he might be going mad. _You are perfectly sane, Cedric Diggory,_ the voice corrected, and Cedric’s grip on his quill tightened. 

Ignore it, Cedric told himself. 

_Ignore?_ The voice sounded offended. _I am not someone you should take lightly._

Ignore, ignore, ignore. 

_My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle and I have taken temporary residence in your body._ Cedric had to give himself credit. He had really given this imaginary voice character, if a pompous, arrogant one. The voice scoffed. _Imaginary? Fine. Then I’ll just have to show you, won’t I?_

Cedric felt his right-hand jerk to the side of its own accord, and he yelped quietly, grabbing it with his left one to still it. His hands proceeded to have a small struggle in front of him, the right one trying to escape its way out of his left’s grip. _You are lucky I’m still adjusting to this new body,_ the voice informed him. _Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to lift a finger against me._

“Cedric, are you alright?” Cho whispered to him, staring at his struggling hands with uncertainty. The right one was flapping madly as he tried to keep it pinned against his body. 

He gave her a strained smile. “Just a cramp. Quidditch, you know? I’ll head to Madam Pomfrey’s and get it looked at.” She nodded slowly, still staring at his hands. 

Hagrid dismissed him without argument and Cedric jogged up the path out of the Forbidden Forest towards Hagrid’s hut. His right hand had stopped moving by itself, but the voice wasn’t done. As soon as Cedric reached Hagrid’s hut, his legs jerked to an abrupt stop. Cedric’s upper body was thrown forward by the shift in momentum. Before he could balance himself, his legs began to march against his will towards the school. “What--?"

_If you think I’ll let you take us to Pomfrey’s and expose me, you’d be sorely mistaken, the voice stated imperiously._

“Who are you?” 

The voice sighed impatiently. _Tom Marvolo Riddle. Remember it. I don’t like repeating myself._

“Right, well, why are you in my head?”

_That’s none of your concern. And rather than looking mad by talking to yourself, heed your own words and realize that I am indeed in your head. Speak to me that way so that you don’t get forcibly admitted to the ward._

Tom was very demanding, Cedric faintly noted. He concentrated on transmitting his thoughts back to Tom as his legs continued walking towards the castle without his permission.

‘Why is it none of my concern? It’s my head you’ve taken residence in, after all.’

Tom hissed. _Hush. You have no right to question me._ Touchy.

‘Er, where are we headed, exactly?’

Tom didn’t answer and Cedric pressed his lips together, deciding to follow Tom’s orders for the moment. There was little Cedric could do since Tom had complete control over his legs. His curiosity was also getting the better of him. Cedric was a born Hufflepuff, after all. He just hoped it wouldn't be the bad sort of curiosity that tended to get the cat killed.

Tom ended up leading them to the library, which was quieter than usual due to ongoing classes. There were a few students studying by themselves during their free period, most of them fifth and seventh years preparing for their OWLS and NEWTS. Cedric himself had been planning to visit later in the afternoon to pick up some books on Arithmancy and Muggle Studies, and he figured he could pick them up now if Tom decided to give him control of his legs back. 

Cedric didn’t begin to seriously worry about Tom’s intentions until his legs started purposefully marching towards the restricted section of the library. “Tom? You realize I require a pass, right?” That wasn’t necessarily true as certain prefects were allowed limited access during their study period, but Cedric’s gut feeling was telling him that whatever Tom wanted to look up wasn’t going to be simple controversial goblin lore. Something about Tom’s presence in his head felt like oil. It was dark, slick, and unpleasantly cold, leaving residue wherever it slid past. 

_Of course I know that,_ Tom responded to his previous question. _It hasn’t been that long since I was a student. And quit speaking to yourself out loud. That girl with the hideous jewelry is staring at you._

Cedric turned and his gaze caught on the familiarly startling figure of Luna Lovegood. She smiled at him dreamily, raising a hand to wave at him and Cedric returned it with a gentle smile. He didn’t know the girl well, but she always made a point to greet him in the halls, so he returned the favor. 

_Tsk, I’ve gotten stuck with a sentimental idiot it appears,_ Tom commented disdainfully at the display before jerking Cedric’s head forcibly away.

Cedric’s legs brought him to the first aisle of the restricted section, no barrier other than Madame Pince’s watchful gaze meeting him. ‘So, you were a student here?’ Cedric prompted, remembering Tom’s earlier words. His right hand began to twitch sporadically. 

_Yes, back in 1944,_ Tom answered him distractedly. Cedric’s right hand finally shot up and began to brush the spines of the old books lining the dusty shelves. _Hmm, Wolfstarf, Aurore, Noor, Morfick!_ Cedric watched his hand grip the heavy black tome and pull it off the shelf, bringing a cloud of dust down with it. Cedric used his left arm to cover his face. Tom led him out of the aisle to one of the secluded tables located in the restricted section. 

Cedric eyed the ancient tome warily. It looked like something Professor Snape would keep in his office to add to the dark, moody aesthetic he had going on. “What exactly are you looking for?” 

_You’ll find out soon enough. Now hush, let me concentrate._

Cedric watched his hands open the book to the table of contents, his fingers skimming down the list of section titles. 

_I. Intro to the History of the Soul_   
_II. The Soul and its Affinity for Dark Magic_   
_III. Soup for the Corrupt Soul...._

Cedric’s bad feeling intensified. “You’re not planning to eat my soul, are you?” he weakly joked. Tom didn’t answer, instead using Cedric’s hand to turn the book open to the chapter titled "Binding the Soul." Tom flipped through the chapter quickly, Cedric’s eyes managing to catch the words _dark ritual_ and _root of hemlock_ , which were never a good combination in Cedric’s opinion. He had been curious, not looking for a one-way ticket to expulsion! He frantically tried to gain back control of his hands and managed to jerk the right one away from the book. 

_Stop it,_ Tom snarled, and Cedric could feel Tom's irritation crawl over his skin. 

“I think I really should go to Madam Pomfrey’s, afterall,” Cedric decided out loud. With his right hand he shoved the book away, but his feet remained firmly planted on the ground. It was as if Tom had cast a body bind spell on his legs. Cedric couldn’t so much as manage a twitch of a toe. For a brief moment, Cedric wondered about the implication of this situation on his Quidditch playing abilities. Then he decided his priorities were obviously compromised and scolded himself.

Instead, Cedric debated what to do as Tom started cursing at him in his head. He tuned the other out, trying to strategize. The Triwizard tournament had often forced him to calm down in the middle of a difficult—and often fatal—situation and think through his options rationally, rather than blindly panic like a headless chicken. Perhaps that was why he wasn’t as alarmed over the voice in his head as he ought to have been. Afterall, he’d already faced death and lived.

Cedric nodded to himself. The Triwizard tournament had truly been a valuable learning experience, he decided, if a terribly irresponsible one on Headmaster Dumbledore’s part. 

Cedric resolved that he should try magic first. Using his right-hand, he waved his wand and cast _“Finite Incantatem.”_ Tom continued to verbally berate him. Well, it was expected that the spell wouldn’t work since it was made for banishing simpler spells and jinxes. But Cedric didn’t know any other spells he could use off the top of his head, and he couldn’t very well research them with Tom there to stop him. 

Perhaps he could simply go to sleep and hope this was all a horrible nightmare. However, there was no way he could fall asleep with the noise in his head. Moreover, Tom seemed like a very self-centered individual, and to fall asleep on him would only increase his ire. 

Cedric supposed he could simply wait Tom out. Cedric was a patient individual whereas Tom seemed like a highly impatient one. Cedric reached into his bag using his left hand, which he still had control over, and grabbed his Potions homework. Snape had assigned them a paper on Amortentia case studies and Cedric already had the basic outline and research of his paper completed. It was also fortunate that Cedric was ambidextrous and so Tom having control of his right-hand wasn’t an issue. 

_What do you think you are doing?_ Tom demanded. 

“Potion’s homework,” Cedric replied amiably.

_You dare ignore me?_

“No, I’m simply compromising.” Tom’s frustration wreaked havoc in Cedric’s blood, but Cedric soldiered on. “You’re ignoring my requests for an explanation so it's only appropriate I ignore yours,” Cedric explained as he began writing his introduction. ‘ _Amortentia is a powerful compulsion potion, banned in Wizarding Europe since…’_

_You and I are not equals, Cedric Diggory. I am not only magically but also intellectually superior to you._

Cedric raised an eyebrow. “But you’re depending on my inferior body? Doesn’t make much sense to me, Tom.” 

_It is only because of my temporary weakness. Which would be quickly resolved if you let me continue with my research._ Cedric’s right hand lurched forward towards the black tome. 

“I am willing to consider working with you if you tell me what you’re planning to do. It’s my body after all.” Cedric continued to write his paper as his right hand struggled to reach the book. “Well?”

 _Fine,_ Tom snarled. Then he was silent for a moment. _You recall the graveyard, correct?_ Cedric didn’t need any more detail to place which graveyard he was referring to, and he nodded, suddenly wary. _I am a ghost that, through a series of magical interactions that night, ended up inside of you._

Cedric frowned thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard of a ghost possessing someone’s body before. The Hogwart ghosts can’t, at least.” 

_Well, they are nowhere near as powerful as I am,_ Tom sniffed. Cedric supposed that Tom’s claim to power must be true since now that he thought about it, Cedric could faintly sense foreign magic hanging on his body like a heavy cloak. “Well, what do you need information on Soul bonds for?”

 _Obviously, I’ve been attached to your soul if I’ve ended up inside you. The book will inform me how to detach myself, and then you may be free._ Cedric was still unsure. Something about Tom seeming inherently off to him. 

“Why not see Headmaster Dumbledore? Then we won’t have to resort to whatever dark rituals that book is calling for.” 

_No!_ Tom hissed. _That old bastard is a completely senile and paranoid fool. He’ll sooner declare me as a malicious entity and banish me than help you. And worse, he’ll convince your gullible mind that it is the wise course of action._

“Well, your personality is malicious enough,” Cedric mused. “Ah, I apologize. That’s a bit rude of me, isn’t it?” Without waiting for Tom to respond, he continued. “But Headmaster Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards of the era.” 

Tom laughed, low and bitter. _Dumbledore is a foolish man, not a brave one._

Cedric sighed. Tom was obviously very against the idea of consulting someone, so they would have to reach another solution. “How about--?”

“I see you have a new friend Cedric,” a voice like bells interrupted from behind him. Cedric twisted his body as best he could with his feet glued to the ground to look at Luna Lovegood, who was twisting her wand in her long pale hair. She was staring at the empty space to his left. “He’s very handsome, but he doesn’t look very friendly.” 

_Send her away._

Cedric ignored Tom. “You can see Tom?”

“Is that his name? That’s a lovely name.”

 _I don’t like her. Send her away you fool before she tattles to someone._

“Is Tom standing next to me?” Cedric asked. He stared at the space Luna was focused on but couldn’t even garner the shadow of a presence. 

“Well, more like he’s hovering. Like the nargles, you know?” Cedric didn’t know but he nodded anyways. 

“He’s a ghost that somehow got attached to me,” Cedric explained, ignoring Tom’s noise of protest. 

Luna tilted her head. “He doesn’t look like a ghost.” 

Cedric shrugged. “Well, I can’t see him so…” 

“Oh! That’s no problem.” Luna dug into the bag slung over her shoulder that was decorated with a multitude of strange charms and pretty flowers and retrieved a pair of colorful glasses. They were round and the lenses contained slowly spinning spirals. “Here, use these. They help me see the nargles.” She handed them to him with an encouraging smile, and with some hesitance Cedric placed them on his face.

Color exploded across his vision at first before the world came into sharp focus around him once more. Cedric blinked at Luna in wonder, observing all the floating fuzzy creatures orbiting her like she was their sun. Luna smiled at him gently before pointing to his left side. “It’s nice to be able to see your friends, isn’t it?”

Cedric turned his head to find a tall and handsome young man hovering at his side. Dark hair curled over a cunning and intelligent pair of eyes with elegant brows twisted into a frown above them. Tom was wearing Slytherin robes but in a style different from the ones Cedric was used to. Cedric took in all these details of the ghost who had happened to attach himself to his soul. 

Cedric extended his hand out to Tom with a friendly smile. “Hello, Tom.” 

Tom simply gave his hand a derisive glare. “Take those hideous glasses off and put your hand down before someone really does drag you to Pomfrey’s.” 

Luna giggled lightly. “Your new friend isn’t very polite, Cedric.” She seemed completely unbothered by the ill intent in Tom’s ridiculing gaze at her. 

Cedric sighed before removing the glasses and returning them to her.

“Thank you very much, Luna.” 

“Oh, it’s no problem. You won’t need the glasses after a while anyways. The longer he stays near you, the more sensitive to his presence you’ll become.” Then she skipped off after waving goodbye, leaving Cedric with the news that Tom would only grow stronger as days passed. Cedric did not perceive this to be a good thing at all. 

Tom, on the other hand, was pleased now. _My predictions were correct. After all, it took me two weeks before your weak body was able to handle my voice and for me to exert control over you._

‘My weak body? Didn’t Luna just say you were too weak?’

 _Moreover,_ Tom continued, ignoring his words. _Do you now understand why I must read the book? Do you want to wait until I grow powerful enough to completely take over your body? Wouldn’t it be better to remove myself from your soul early on?_

While Tom’s words made logical sense, Cedric instincts warned him to exert caution. After all, in most stories demonic entities and spirits were always eager to take over human bodies, not to return to where they came from. 

As if sensing his doubts, Tom sighed. _Even if I take over your body, I cannot continue to exist stabily. A body cannot house two souls, and since yours has direct ownership, I will be eventually pushed out again._

Cedric hummed in thought before finally conceding. For now, he couldn't see a serious red flag in Tom’s words. Going to Pomfrey’s would only give his mother reason to permanently withdraw Cedric from school for the rest of the school year. She was already worried out of her mind after the events of the Triwizard Tournament. Furthermore, Tom’s worries about Headmaster Dumbledore completely banishing his soul from existence was a somewhat justifiable possibility that could be avoided for now. 

He allowed Tom to take temporary control over his limbs, and the other eagerly began flipping through the black tome once more. At one point he flipped over Cedric’s potions essay to take notes on the back, completely ignoring Cedric small noise of protest. 

Tom’s notes caught Cedric’s attention. More specifically, his writing. It was strange seeing his own hand write in a foreign style. Tom’s handwriting was looping with a proud flourish where Cedric’s was more restrained and elegant. It matched Tom’s personality, Cedric quietly thought to himself.

Evening creeped over the castle and Cedric fell into an odd floaty subconscious as Tom continued to work. Occasionally, Tom would use Cedric’s body to get up and search for a reference book or another dark and strange book. It was actually quite nice if not for the discomfort of losing control of his limbs nagging at the back of Cedric’s mind.

Cedric was finally jerked back to full consciousness when his stomach grumbled, accompanied with a sharp pang of hunger. “I think that’s it for today, Tom. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Cedric could feel Tom’s irritation for his work being interrupted. He found that he had regained control over his hands and feet and wondered if prolonged use made Tom’s control weaker. He stood up and stretched. 

Cedric hummed as he gathered Tom’s notes and stacked up the books to return to the shelves. “You must have been a top student in your time, Tom.” 

_Of course._

“It’s a shame you died, though. What do you think you would have become had you lived?” 

Tom simply laughed, a mean and condescending thing. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that I will try to update on Sundays!  
> If you guys like the story, please make sure to leave some comments if you can!

When Cedric opened his eyes after falling asleep that night, he found himself hundreds of meters off the ground. Instinctively, he tightened his hands around the broomstick he was on, leaning forward to stabilize himself. An empty quidditch field covered in pearly snow surrounded him, the castle shrouded in mist in the distance and the Forbidden Forest looming ahead of him. The sky was a dreary grey overhead and the temperature frigid. 

The world was silent around Cedric. 

He concluded he was dreaming, although this dream was more vivid than any he had had previously. He assumed it was not ordinary to realize one was in a dream, and therefore this dream must be of the magical sort. But having a dream with a magical source required a magical stimulus, and Cedric could only think of one specific stimulus that could have possibly caused this vivid dreamscape. 

“Tom?”

“Here.” The smooth voice came from below and Cedric peered down at the quidditch pitch where a familiar dark-haired boy stood. Cedric drifted slowly downward until he was standing next to Tom.

“You did this, correct?” Instead of replying with an affirmative to Cedric’s inquiry, a frown twisted Tom’s handsome features.

“No. I have no attachment to Quidditch. Moreover, this place feels completely unfamiliar. I thought I had been pulled into your dreamscape.” 

Cedric thought about it, glancing around the quidditch pitch. It was true he spent a lot of time on the pitch, but this place felt strangely foreign. Upon closer inspection, Cedric realized all the banners hanging in the pitch were red and gold: Gryffindor. Cedric was in Hufflepuff and Tom had been in Slytherin, so it was unlikely the pitch was tied to either of them.

He relayed his observations to Tom, and the other nodded thoughtfully. 

“Look—” Cedric pointed up towards the grey sky where clouds were gathering. It looked like a storm was brewing, but that wasn’t what had caught his attention. It was the pitch-black figures slowly drifting below the clouds. They hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Dementors,” Tom observed. “The dreamscape is morphing.” Cedric tilted his head in thought. There was something eerily familiar about this scene, but his gut also told him it wasn’t tied to him. He simply felt that he had been here before, but before he could think further about it, Tom started walking away.

Together they trekked towards the school, figuring it would be best to get out of the chilly weather. Cedric found it absurd that even though they were in a dream, the cold felt painfully real. He wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up the next morning with a dreadful cold.

However, the pair soon realized that they were getting no closer to the school the longer they walked. Hogwarts castle remained stubbornly shrouded with fog in the distance, warm lights glowing tauntingly through the mist at the frozen pair. Tom finally stopped walking and Cedric followed his example, curiously watching the other boy pat his robe pockets. 

“What are you looking—ow.” Tom punched Cedric in the face, probably bruising his entire left cheekbone with the impact. “Bloody hell, what was that for?” He exclaimed, crouching down and holding the side of his face. 

“A quick experiment to _make sure_ this isn’t your dream since I realized I don’t trust you to have a good grasp over your mind. Afterall, I was living in it for three weeks without you noticing a thing. However, seeing that the pain did not wake you up, I can confirm this is not your dream.” Tom stated all of this with a scholarly matter-of-factness. “I would not normally degrade myself to using physical violence like muggles, but it appears we don’t have wands. Moreover, wandless spells also seem to cancel out in this space. So we either find the owner of this dreamscape and force them to wake up, or we wait until they naturally wake up which could mean hours, never mind that time functions oddly in dreams. Now—” Tom was cut off with a splutter of breath as Cedric yanked on his robes, causing him to stumble face first into the snow. When Tom lifted his head back up, his hair was soaked with snow and his expression was livid. 

“How dare you,” he hissed, eerily similar to a snake. 

Unconcerned with the murderous look he was being leveled, Cedric pushed himself off the ground while patting the snow off his soaked knees. “You know, I’m usually not so impolite. Mum would be horrified if she knew I’d done that. But I’ve also never met someone as arrogant as you, either.” He offered his hand to Tom to help him up, but the angry Slytherin only snarled at it.

Tom’s hissing fit was interrupted by a blaring whistle that came from somewhere ahead of them in the trees surrounding the castle. They both turned towards the noise. The whistle was followed by the familiar chugging of a train and another loud whistle. Far above the trees, Cedric spotted a blast of smoke shoot up into the sky.

“The Hogwarts Express?” Cedric asked in surprise. “But the station is in Hogsmeade. How’s the train so close to the castle?”

Tom scoffed, now standing, Color still remained in his cheeks, indicating his lingering temper. “It’s a dream, remember? It doesn’t have to follow reality, only the dreamer’s perception. And the dreamer is most likely on that train since it’s the only active part right now in the dreamscape.”

“How do you know so much about dreamscapes?” Cedric asked, impressed. “We’ve never been taught them at school. I suppose things were different in 1944.”

Tom waved a dismissive hand. “It would be absurd for me not to know such basic things. That fool Dumbledore has diluted the curriculum to a shameful state. It’s a wonder no one has challenged the buffoon yet.” Well, Cedric thought to himself. There was certainly a lot of bad blood between Tom and the Headmaster. He wondered about the reason; by all means, Tom appeared to be a very bright wizard albeit a bit moody. But then his mind reminded him of the murky feeling of Tom in his head and it suddenly made more sense where the difference in opinion stemmed from.

Any more speculation was put off for another time as the sound of the train grew more deafening as it approached the pair.

Utterly enthralled, Cedric watched as elegant black train tracks emerged from the snow moments before the train came blasting out of the trees like a great metal creature. With a screech the train pulled itself to a stop in front of the boys. Cedric stared at the familiar train with his mouth slightly ajar while Tom looked bored.

The door to the cabin in front of them slid open and after some slight hesitation, Cedric jumped on to the train. 

Instantly, the world exploded into motion. Warmth blessedly embraced his chilled body and excited chatter reached his ears. A spell shot past his face along with a loud bark of laughter. Students dressed in school robes ambled past him down the aisles, entering and leaving train cabins. Cedric spotted the sweet trolley further down to his right, a kindly old matron exchanging some chocolate frogs for a few sickles with a young girl. Items ranging from books to trunks to trinkets floated in the air, students either summoning belongings or trying to impress their peers with spells they had learned over break. Magic waltzed through the air undeterred, woven into the very fabric of the air.

It was a familiar sight to Cedric and Tom, both seventh years and having experienced the sheer pandemonium that was the Hogwarts Express trip at the beginning of the year. However, this scene seemed exceptionally bewitching somehow. It was as if someone was pouring pure happiness into Cedric’s chest, and before he knew it, he was beaming hard enough his teeth ached. Goodness, it was his last year, wasn’t it? He abruptly wasn’t ready to graduate at all. 

He turned to look at Tom with a laugh of delight. Even the normally grouchy boy seemed affected by the glowing atmosphere, but along with the dazed expression was an odd twist of his mouth. “It’s been a long time,” Tom muttered, and Cedric was sure he was speaking to himself. Then his expression closed off again. “It’s the dreamer. We are being influenced by their emotions. They must hold a great deal of attachment to Hogwarts for the influence to be this strong.” 

“Well, that doesn’t really help us figure out who it is, does it?” Cedric pointed out, still feeling giddy. “I’m sure loads of people love Hogwarts. It could be anyone.” 

Tom shook his head slowly. “No, this type of emotion isn’t simple excitement to see school friends.” He swallowed, gaze flickering strangely. “It’s someone who views Hogwarts as a home.” 

“A home?” Cedric repeated, intrigued. 

“Yes. Meaning that they prefer it over their own place of residence. It must be someone who either despises their actual address or is a mudblood.” Cedric winced at the term. 

“Tom, I don’t know how it was in 1944, but you can’t call muggleborns that. It’s rude and offensive, and frankly, it makes you sound like a narrow-minded bigot. Or worse, a Voldemort fanatic.” Cedric was proud of himself for using Voldemort’s name without flinching. Harry had offhandedly explained to him the absurdity of fearing a name when he came to visit in the hospital wing shortly after the third task fiasco. Tired and thin, yet still holding a spark of fire behind those round glasses, Harry had told Cedric that if anyone should stop being afraid, it would be the person who had escaped death at Voldemort’s hands. Cedric trusted Harry to know what he was talking about. 

But Tom looked alarmed upon hearing him say Voldemort. “Who?” he hissed, grabbing Cedric arm in a painful grip. Cedric blinked, bewildered at his strong reaction. 

“Well, you wouldn’t know him since you died before his rise to power. He’s a powerful dark wizard.” That definitely wasn’t an adequate description of Voldemort and his crimes, but the pair were still standing in the middle of the train aisle. A short summary would have to do. But then he frowned. “You’ve been in my head for a while now. Shouldn’t you have heard about him because of all the rumors? I talked to Harry in the hospital wing about him.”

Tom released him abruptly but continued to look disoriented. “I only became fully conscious today. I—Of course I wouldn’t know. Tell me more,” he demanded, bizarrely intense. Maybe Tom was a fan of dark wizards. 

“Now?” Cedric asked, glancing around the train. “Shouldn’t we focus on finding the dreamer? And what does Voldemort matter to you anyways? You’re dead!” At Tom’s offended look, Cedric winced. “Er, sorry. I should probably stop bringing up your death so often. Must be traumatizing.” 

“We have time,” Tom declared, completely ignoring the fact that he had been the one so intent on getting out of the dream to begin with. Tom marched down the aisle, sneering at students as he went and Cedric followed after him, shaking his head in exasperation. They finally reached a quieter section and Tom chose a cabin with only one other boy in it. 

“Get out,” Tom ordered, not even glancing at the boy. Cedric, however, recognized the youth. 

“Harry!” Cedric exclaimed, delighted. Harry was very young here, perhaps a first year if Cedric had to guess. He was drowning in his robes and his green eyes looked huge in his thin face. The signature lightening scar peeked out beneath his messy dark locks. 

“Hello,” Harry politely greeted Cedric, throwing a wary glance at Tom. “How do you know my name?” 

“Er, well you’re famous, that’s why,” Cedric offered as an excuse. His words seemed to dampen the other’s mood, however, and Cedric recalled that to Harry, fame had always been an unwanted burden. He didn’t blame him; with all the media drama during the Tournament followed by the Daily Prophet’s lies, he would avoid the spotlight like a disease as well. So Cedric hurried to correct himself. “Also, we know each other already. Even though you don’t remember meeting me, I suppose. You’re a bit young here.” Cedric turned towards Tom, ready to suggest they leave Harry alone and find a different cabin but he paused at Tom’s thoughtful expression.

“What is it?”

“He can speak,” Tom observed. Cedric blinked, unsure what that had to do with anything but then Tom elaborated with a roll of his eyes. “You obviously hadn’t noticed, but everyone we passed so far were mere illusions mimicking student behaviors. There was a blurry quality to many of their features as well. They’re simply just set pieces for the dreamer—For _you.”_ Here, Tom pointed at Harry who seemed unaffected by the accusation. Cedric sat down at the revelation, which in hindsight wasn’t too shocking. Afterall, in the past four years of Harry’s attendance at Hogwarts, all sorts of strange and unexplainable events had occurred.

“Ah, that explains why the Quidditch Pitch seemed familiar,” Cedric realized. “It’s from last year’s game when Sirius Black was at large, and the Ministry had dementors guarding the school.”

“The Ministry placed dementors at Hogwarts?” Tom repeated, incredulous. He had seated himself next to Cedric, turning his attention towards Harry, who stared calmly back at both.

“Well, that has to do with Voldemort, actually. But we’ve found the dreamer, so shouldn’t we try to get out of the dreamscape first?”

Tom waved a hand dismissively. “It’s safer to talk here. Tell me more about Voldemort,” he commanded, expression intense.

Cedric rubbed the back of his neck, shooting a glance at Harry’s quiet form. It was a bit awkward talking about Voldemort’s history with him sitting right there, but Tom seemed stuck on learning all about him right this instance. “Voldemort’s a dark wizard who rose to power in the late 60’s, so about two decades after you died.” Tom glared at the reminder, and Cedric winced. “Er, right. Sorry. Anyways, he and his band of Death Eaters—those are his followers, not some magical creatures—went around terrorizing Wizarding Britain and pushing forward their anti-muggle agenda and honestly, there was just a lot of bloodshed and chaos. Then the first war ended when Voldemort died—” Here Tom hissed angrily.

“How did he die?” Tom demanded, leaning forward with a feverish light in his eyes. Cedric paused, a thought occurring to him. He glanced down at Tom’s hands which were clenched tightly on the edge of the seat. He recalled the graveyard. Something was niggling at the back of his mind, an important detail that shouting that he really shouldn’t be telling Tom _Riddle_ these things. But before he could make the connection, Harry finally spoke up.

“I killed him.”


End file.
